It's only a day late, so I'm still making good on my promise to put more of these mini-blogs up. Here's one I made up while visiting Saugerties, a charming antique-laden River town with even more charming and antique people. I met a wandering rapper that night. I forget his named but he rhymed gravy and Old Navy right at the end of his 'rap session'. For some reason I turned down the offer to bump nasties with one of the badonkadonk girls that were randomly at his apartment. He said the two of them were too much work and needed someone else to help him out. It was quite apparent that he was strung out from not buying any Depression glass bottles that day.

During my recent trip to the grocery mart I had sex with an avocado, spit on the help, and tossed a salad or two. Needless to say, my coupons had expired the day before.

Even I was expecting one about the crazy rapper dude, but I'm betting I didn't know how to put that meeting into words. I did however, capture the action of college hockey with words. The game was tied at 0 until the last few minutes of the game. After halfway I couldn't take anymore - and decided to express my rage through my thumbtip (that may not be a real word, but I spelled it right).

College hockey is so insanely boring that I'd rather be naked on the disease filled streets of Bangalore while trying to shake off the worst hangover I've ever had. Seriously. Throw some padding on Ostriches and you'll see better puck control.

That only took me a few minutes - the game still had an hour left. I felt like I had some time to waste so I prepared something a little more random and tasteless.

I wish I contrived the HIV as a fetus. It would be a much easier story to tell everyone. Each time someone asks how I got it I have to explain how I had to suck off truck drivers to afford my next 40 of Michelobe. I would never stoop as low to drink malt beverages.

While this may appear to be my first blog entry, I'm really not a blirgin. I have several at work, one on my fagberry (it's what I call BlackBerries because I swore them off thinking they were only for middle aged men wanting to look important and fags), and a silly one at MySpace. I've been meaning to get them off my phone and into a site of some sort - myspace, here, or a real website for myself. Just thought of something. My 'Procrastination list' I may as well post it to prove I think about something in my spare time.

Brett's Procrastination (Not-to-do) list

1. Put my web skills to work and create a nice website for myself.
2. Get a physical.
3. Put together that closet organizer I bought in December.
4. Visit Anuj in India.
5. Play curling.
6. Learn to ice skate.
7. Start a gourmet take out style pasta bar with Steve.
8. Make my official 'procrastination list'

At least I can stratch off something off the list today. Anyway, let me get back to the real reason I'm typing on a keyboard this late Sunday morning instead of going to Church for the first time in 17 years.

I've randomly been collecting short bits that I loosely call blogs on my fagberry. I've shown them to tons of people and I can tell you right now if you'll think they're funny or just use of the the human language to make disgusting/offensive/insane sentences.

Are you religious? My studies have found that anybody who regularly attends church don't find these funny.

Do you receive an LL Bean catalog in the mail every month? Again, if you do, please don't read any more.

Have you donated any money ever to PBS? I think you're getting the idea here, so I'll post the first one.

It's very mild and represents my 'born and raised in upstate NY' mentality. I was at concert (the band Three) in Woodstock, NY and saw a few citiots (yuppies from Manhattan). At that point I figured it would be funny to script a typical yuppy blog;

I'm watching some guitarist play music but can't stop thinking about how much of a bitch the girl at Starbucks was when I ordered my usual Triple Expresso Mocha Choco Soy Latte.

More of a spoof, not a true funny. My next one could possibly be my favorite. You'll have to think of me being a female in order to truly appreciate it. It doesn't really make any sense in the reality of me being a guy.

As my Mom always said, "Don't talk to fags. They'll spoil your appetite for cock."

Oddly enough, not too many girls like this one. The ones who do are usually pretty cool and worth talking for a few minutes with. My next one is quite similar, but comes from my grandfather and makes no sense;

My grandfather once said to me, "Don't have sex with drunk hookers. They'll steal your testicles and impregnate your hampsters with reckless abandon. Not to disrespect your grandmother as she knows enough not to shit on our bed.

I'm spent at the moment (truthfully, I want to watch the Orangemen vs Villanova bball game). I'll put the rest up in another post. One last thing - I was never a fan of 'if you have nothing good to say, say nothing at all'. If you like to give me some hate comments, please do. I'll simply turn them into funny quips that will offend you. It'll be like eating your own shit.